


A Dangerous Game

by LeanaVine



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Adultery, Alternate Universe, Bottom Peter Parker, Cheating, Depression, F/M, First Meetings, Just an ordinary guy, M/M, Meet-Cute, No superheroes, Starker, Top Tony Stark, more tags to come, peter is 19, smut later on, tony isn't rich
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-08-20 07:15:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20223925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeanaVine/pseuds/LeanaVine
Summary: AU. Tony Stark has the perfect life, so it seems. A loving wife and daughter at home, a job that pays well, food always on the table. But there's something missing, and he isn't quite sure what that may be.Peter Parker lives with his Aunt May, has no job, and never went to college. He feels like a loser with no purpose in life, and is desperate for companionship.When the two meet, there's an instant connection, but the fact that Tony has a family prevents any room for chemistry to develop. Tony tries to forget about Peter, tries to be in love with his wife, but he just can't get the younger man out of his head. And so begins a dangerous game of secrets, passion, and debauchery.





	A Dangerous Game

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Hey guys! So, I just started shipping Starker like, maybe two weeks ago? I always saw Tony as a father figure to Peter, especially after "Homecoming", but after stumbling upon some Starker fan art, I wanted to learn more. It turns out this ship is adorable af. My Avengers OTP is still probably Stony (Steve/Tony), but this one is a close second.
> 
> This fic is heavily inspired by the movie "Unfaithful" starring Richard Gere and Diane Lane. I knew I wanted to write something with Starker, and figured it would be safe to start with an AU, so I wouldn't have to worry as much about accuracy. I randomly remembered "Unfaithful," and thought it would be perfect for this pairing. I'm not copying the movie exactly, so if you've seen the movie, don't worry about this being too close to it, but there are some moments when I use elements straight from the movie. I can promise you, though, that the ending will be different.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you guys love this fic! Please feel free to leave comments, questions, and/or concerns. All kudos are greatly appreciated!

The aroma of maple syrup wafted through the air of the pale green kitchen, accompanied by the sizzling sounds of bacon in the frying pan. Pepper Stark was the perfect picture of a model housewife: bright red hair pulled back in a scrunchie, a dark blue apron with pancake batter smeared on the belly from where she’d wiped her hands, her smile warm and rosy, breathtaking first thing in the morning without any makeup. As she flipped the bacon in the pan, Morgan watched with interest from her seat at the table, swinging her bare feet. The six-year-old was still in her pajamas – purple and My Little Pony themed – and was slowly eating her breakfast, distracted by her mother. It was a beautiful scene for Tony to see first thing in the morning.

He emerged from the hallway, covering his mouth as he yawned quietly. Although he was dressed for work already, minus his shoes, he looked like he wanted/needed to go back to bed. His brown eyes were tired, his dark hair disheveled. Tony padded over to the coffee pot, grabbing a mug covered with painted sunflowers from the drying rack by the sink, and poured himself a cup. Drinking it black, he made his way over to Pepper, giving her a peck on the cheek. “Mornin’,” he muttered before he plopped down at the table.

Pepper beamed at him as she slid the bacon from the pan and onto a plate. “Good morning, love. Sleep okay?”

Tony nodded, taking another gulp of scorching hot coffee, wincing slightly as it burned his throat. “Daddy!” Morgan chimed. “Guess what I dreamt about last night.”

As his wife passed him a plate with scrambled eggs, two pieces of bacon, and a single pancake, he replied, “Whadya dream about, kiddo?” He began to pour syrup on his pancake, grunting softly when some got on his bacon, scowling at his breakfast.

“We had a pet alligator named Rosco!” Morgan told him, all smiles, stabbing at her eggs with her fork. “He lived in our bathtub and liked peanut butter sandwiches. He was like me and could only eat them with the crusts cut off.” She giggled at this, and Tony couldn’t help but smile, despite how exhausted he was.

“That’s awesome,” he said unenthusiastically with bacon in his mouth. “Maybe if you ask your mom, we can buy you a Rosco for your birthday.”

The girl squealed excitedly, and Pepper quickly deflected Tony’s suggestion. “Ah, come on, Tony. Don’t put ideas like that in her head. Now I’m the bad guy for not letting her have an alligator in the house.”

Tony shook his head. “No, Morgan’s smart, she knows I was kidding. There’s no way an alligator would fit in the tub, anyway. Plus, they’re expensive.” He gave an apologetic smile to his daughter. “Sorry, kiddo.”

“It’s okay, Daddy,” she replied around a bite of pancake, syrup dripping down her chin.

He squinted in thought, rubbing his beard. “Maybe we could get you a bearded dragon, though.” Tony smiled and wiggled his eyebrows, slicing up his pancake.

Again, Morgan cheered, and Pepper sighed, placing the frying pan in the sink. “Hurry and finish eating, my love,” she requested. “You’re going to be late for work at this rate.”

Tony nodded tiredly, picking at his eggs. Pepper was an excellent cook, but the man just didn’t feel hungry that morning, and he wasn’t sure why. Normally, he woke up starving and was able to eat all his breakfast as well as Morgan’s leftovers. As of late, though, his appetite had gone down significantly. Tony had even lost a couple of pounds in the last month, he noticed.

Pepper joined them at the table with her own breakfast – scrambled eggs and one piece of bacon, no pancakes. She always watched her figure, which could be a little annoying at times, Tony thought. If he wanted to order pizza, she wouldn’t touch it, opting for a piece of fruit instead, typically. She even restricted how many carbs and sugars Morgan could have, keeping count of everything the little girl consumed each day. Poor Morgan would usually have to beg for a second piece of cake at her own birthday parties, and Tony thought it was ridiculous.

“Tony are you feeling okay?” his wife asked when she noticed him lost in space. “You don’t look so good this morning.” She reached out, feeling his forehead with the back of her hand.

He pushed her hand away, saying, “I’m fine,” then hissed when a drop of syrup dripped from his fork and landed on the lapel of his charcoal suit jacket. “Shit!”

Morgan _‘ooo’_ed and Pepper gasped, smacking him lightly on the back of the head. “Language, Tony!”

He grumbled, trying to wipe the sticky liquid away with a napkin, to no avail. “Sorry. Do I have time to change?”

“No, no,” Pepper answered, ushering him to his feet. “You really have to get going if you’re gonna catch the train.” He turned to her and she kissed his cheek lightly. “Have a good day, okay?”

Tony swallowed as much of his coffee as he could without choking before setting his mug back on the table, ruffling Morgan’s hair as he passed her. “Have a good day at school, kiddo.”

“Thanks!” the little girl called back, picking syrup out of the ends of one of her messy pigtails.

“Oh, great,” Pepper huffed, pulling Morgan up out of her chair and to her feet. “You guys really can’t handle pancakes, can you? I should know that by now.” She took the girl’s hand, leading her to the stairs. “Let’s get that out of your hair, then you have to get dressed. The bus will be here soon.”

“Mommy, can I wear orange today?” Morgan asked, taking her time climbing the stairs.

Pepper quirked a brow at her. “Why orange?”

Morgan giggled. “Orange is a silly color.”

Her mother gasped but smiled, kneeling so they were eye level. “So, you think my hair is a silly color, huh?” She picked up the little girl, slinging her over her shoulder, causing the child to erupt into laughter. “If anyone has silly hair, it’s you! You’re the one with syrup in your pigtails!”

* * *

Tony sighed as he drove to where the train stopped near his house, rubbing a hand over his eyes momentarily. It was a misty morning, and the sunrise was mesmerizing but blinding. Combing a hand through his hair, he tapped his fingers on the steering wheel with his other hand. Lately, he’d been feeling…off. He wasn’t exactly sure what it was, but something was bothering him. Tony just wasn’t as happy has he used to be. There was no reason for him to feel this depressed, he thought. Pepper was such a loving wife, and Morgan was an angel; he couldn’t ask for a better family. He lived in a nice house, made plenty of money, drove a decent car. So then, why did he feel like his life was missing something?

While he loved Pepper, and would do anything for her, he just didn’t feel the same for her as he once had. When they were younger, their romance had been as fiery as Pepper’s blazing hair. She had turned him down a few times, playing hard to get at first, before finally agreeing to go out with him, and he tried to make sure she wouldn’t regret it. Here they were 9 years later, having suffered a couple of breakups here and there, but still together. Happily married? Tony wasn’t sure anymore, and it made him feel like an ungrateful ass.

He should feel damn lucky that he’d been able to hang on to Pepper for as long as he had. Tony was just over 40, and there was no one else lining up at his door. It was a little too late in his life to try and find another special someone, he told himself. Besides, what other person out there would be able to put up with him? He could really be a douche sometimes, with his sarcasm and his tendency to be inconsiderate and brash, egotistical and stubborn.

Tony groaned to himself, slumping in his seat a little. He knew he was just being selfish, but he missed the feeling of really being _in love_ with someone, that intensity that a new relationship brought. He wondered if it was possible to feel that way about Pepper again, or if he was stuck feeling this way for the rest of his life. Putting on a fake smile each morning was getting harder with each passing day, and Tony wondered how much longer he could carry on before breaking.

He tried to remind himself of Morgan and what she needed and deserved. Pepper was such a huge part of his daughter’s life, as she should be. It was Pepper that read Morgan to sleep every night and dressed her every morning. She cooked all the meals, cleaned the house, and provided a loving, nurturing environment for her adoring family. There was no way Tony could replace her, or survive without her, and Morgan would never forgive him if he tried.

Yep, he was stuck.

* * *

Peter awoke to the sound of his phone chiming his ringtone, “Treasure” by Bruno Mars. He slowly pushed himself onto his elbows on the couch where he’d been laying face down, half of himself hanging off the cushions and onto the floor. He wiped the small amount of drool away from his chin with his forearm, grumbling as he reached out for his phone on the coffee table. Fumbling, Peter accidentally edged it off the table and it clattered to the hardwood floor. “Crap.” He finally sat upright, picking the phone up off the floor. Whoever had been calling had given up.

Lips pressed into a thin line, the teen swiped his phone open to see that his aunt had tried to get ahold of him, having called once and sent two texts. Peter quickly returned her call, hoping she wouldn’t be ticked off when she answered. Finally, he heard her voice say, **“Peter?”**

“Yeah, it’s me,” he replied with a yawn. “Sorry, I was asleep. How was your flight?”

She was silent for a moment before responding, **“Peter, it’s almost noon. What happened? Did you get drunk last night or something?”**

Peter couldn’t help but laugh, eventually standing to stretch out his aching limbs, his back popping. “No, just spent the night on the phone with Harley. We hadn’t talked in forever and I guess he had a lot to say. I don’t even remember falling asleep.”

**“How’s he doing?”**

Rubbing the back of his neck, Peter made his way to the kitchen and answered, “I think he’s doing good. School seems to be going well for him.”

**“Yeah?” **May returned. **“When are you gonna join him, huh?”**

The teen sighed, pulling a bottle of water out of the fridge. “I don’t know, Aunt May. I figure there’s no point in going to college until I know what I want to do with my life, y’know?”

She scoffed. **“Yeah, but keep that attitude for long, and your life is gonna pass you up, Peter. I agreed to let you take some time off after you graduated from high school, but it’s been over a year now. You gotta start doing something with your life.”**

He nodded, chugging almost half of the water in one go. “I know,” he replied. “I’ll figure it out soon, I promise.” Peter peered into the fridge once more, squinting as if that would improve the sight in front of him. “There’s, like, nothing here to eat, Aunt May.”

**“So go shopping,” **she suggested. **“Or go out to eat. I left some cash in the jar above the microwave. Just be smart with it, okay?”**

Once Peter had recovered the roll of money from the owl-shaped cookie jar, he smiled and said, “Bless you, Aunt May.”

**“Love you.”**

Peter was counting the money when he said, “You too.” He hung up the phone, setting it on the counter. May had left him $125 to use while she was away on business. That combined with what little he already had should be plenty to last the next two weeks, right? Even if he ate Taco Bell every day, that should still leave him with a bit extra to get some snacks for the house. He placed the cash on the countertop by his phone then went to his room to get dressed.

Deciding to wear a dark blue hoodie and jeans, Peter pulled on his old, red Converse, grabbing his apartment key and wallet off the nightstand next to his bed. He returned to the kitchen, sticking Aunt May’s money in his pocket and picking up his phone, checking his notifications. He had a couple of new followers on Twitter, and a new Tinder match, but that was it. Peter exhaled, opening the dating app as he walked towards the front door. Once he was sure the door was locked behind him, the teen made his way down the hall, messaging his new Tinder match as he walked. The guy was okay looking, around his age, and only lived 13 miles away. Really, he preferred older men, but he’d settle for someone younger if he had to.

Peter hadn’t even noticed it was raining outside until he opened the glass door of the apartment building. He stopped to yank his hood up and pocket his phone, sighing as he stepped out into the downpour. Rain was awesome and all, but not if you had to be out walking in it, Peter thought, his shoes getting immediately soaked. Something hot to drink sounded good right about now. There was a café that Peter frequented only a few blocks away. He supposed he could grab some early lunch there and then go pick up a few groceries. Hopefully by the time he was done eating, the rain would have stopped, or at least lightened up a bit.

Upon entering said café, Peter slipped off his hood, breathing a sigh of relief, his shoes squishing. It was warm in here, and it smelled amazing – like grease and pie. The place was pretty empty, probably due to the weather. Peter always liked to sit at the bar, noticing one other person already sitting there, reading a menu. He was gorgeous, with dark hair styled back, a perfectly-trimmed goatee, and chocolate eyes framed with small crow’s feet. Peter swallowed, still standing in the doorway of the café. Should he sit by this handsome stranger, or would that be weird? Peter was kind of an awkward guy, to be honest, and wasn’t great at small talk. He never just approached people, but how could he_ not_ say something to this guy? Could he live with himself if he let this opportunity slip by?

There must have been something wrong with him, he thought, because he found himself striding towards the bar. In his mind, he was cursing himself, begging his feet to stop, but they didn’t. He found himself sitting to the right of the hunk, one stool between them, folding his hands on the counter shyly. A waitress approached him and asked if he needed a menu. “Nah, I’ll just have a coffee to start.” He didn’t usually drink coffee, but he needed something warm. She nodded and walked away. Peter peeked over at the man next to him, only to meet his eyes unexpectedly. He quickly looked back down at the counter, considering moving to a booth instead, his anxiety level rising.

He decided to stay put when nothing else occurred. A different waitress walked over to take the order of the man next to Peter. He ordered a grilled chicken sandwich and fries, handing her his menu. Peter stole another look at the stranger, watching him nurse his own mug of coffee, black. From this side, it was impossible to tell if the man had a wedding ring on. The teen bit the inside of his cheek, wondering again if he should speak up. His thoughts were interrupted by his waitress returning with his coffee. Peter quietly thanked her, then watched as she refilled the other man’s cup as well. The stranger glanced over at Peter again, but the teen didn’t avert his gaze this time. He half smiled, his heart drumming even harder when the other man acknowledged him with a nod.

“Shitty weather, huh?” the stranger spoke. Oof, that was a nice voice.

A lump formed in Peter’s throat and he tried to swallow past it. Maybe the coffee would help. “I like rain, actually,” he replied before pressing the mug to his lips. His face twisted at the bitter drink and he set the cup back down.

The older man chuckled. “Too strong for you?”

Peter nodded, not trying to hide his disgust. “It needs cream, bad.”

Surprisingly, the other gentleman said, “Okay,” then whistled, getting the attention of a waitress behind the bar. “Sweetheart,” he called, motioning to Peter, “this one needs cream, when you get a chance.”

Surely Peter was flushing red, judging by how hot his face felt. The waitress brought him a small pitcher of cream, and he smiled at her sheepishly. He then looked over at the other man. “Thanks, I guess.”

“No problem, kid.”

Peter frowned. “I’m not a kid,” he said dejectedly, “and my name is Peter.”

The other man laughed lowly. It was a sexy laugh that made the teen’s stomach roll, but in a good way. Like when you’re so nervous you start to feel sick, but it’s a good nervous. “Okay, Peter.” Oh, hearing his name being spoken by that sultry voice sent shivers down Peter’s spine. The stranger took another gulp of his black coffee like a pro.

Peter began pouring some cream into his cup, watching the drink swirl and marble, steadily changing colors, then asked, “What’s your name?”

Pulling his eyebrows together, the other man turned on his barstool to face Peter, which made the teen even more nervous. “Why?” he questioned.

Twiddling his thumbs, unable to make eye contact, Peter replied, “Just wondering.”

That brought a smile to the older gentleman’s face. “Tony Stark.” One of the waitresses came back with Tony’s plate of food, setting it down in front of him. “Thanks, hun.” As he ate one of his fries, the man asked, “Are you gonna order food or just sit there and look pretty all afternoon?”

Peter laughed, knowing that must have been sarcasm, but hoping that Tony_ did _think he was nice to look at. “Actually,” he replied, directing his words at the waitress, “I could go for a cheeseburger. Just plain, though, please.”

The woman took note of his order, then walked away. Tony eyed Peter quizzically. “Just plain?”

Shrugging, the teen replied, “I don’t like veggies.”

“You sure you’re not a kid?” Tony asked with a shit-eating grin. He laughed at Peter’s cute, offended face. “Just messing with you.”

Peter smiled, but stated, “For the record, I’m 19.”

Tony smirked. “Definitely an adult then.” Something about his tone wasn’t entirely convincing. They were both quiet for a moment while the older man ate.

Peter took another sip of his coffee, and it tasted slightly better, but he still added more cream. He continued to drink a little bit at a time, replacing the coffee with cream until it was a satisfying mix. Peter’s food came out not long after, and he thanked the waitress before asking the man next to him, “Can you pass the ketchup, Mr. Stark?”

Raising an eyebrow at the teen, Tony said, “Mr. Stark?” When Peter locked up and didn’t reply, the older man chuckled, handing him the condiment he’d asked for. “Loosen up, kid. The name’s Tony.”

As he took the ketchup, the teen retorted, “I’m not a kid.” Lowering his voice in an attempt to match Tony’s, he said, “The name’s Peter.”

Tony laughed, shaking his head. “Right. Whatever you say, Pete.” He watched as Peter loaded up his burger with ketchup. “So, what’s your story?” The teen shot him a confused look, so he clarified. “I mean, shouldn’t you be in class right now?”

Peter shook his head, looking a little embarrassed. “I’m taking some time off. Not totally sure what I want to major in yet, or where I want to go to college, even.” He sighed, staring down at this coffee. “I guess I don’t really know what my purpose is right now, y’know?”

Nodding, Tony pushed over his plate. “Help me eat these fries?” The teen hesitated but reached over to take a fry. “What are your skills? What are you good at?” the older man asked.

Peter pondered for a second, before answering, “Video games. I like electronics.”

“Well, you could always go into something dealing with that, like game design, graphic arts, or even engineering, if you like to tinker.” Tony took another bite of his sandwich.

The teen stared down at his own meal, suddenly not feeling so hungry anymore, but forced himself to pick up his burger. Talking about this stuff always put him in a funk. “I’m not sure… I don’t know if I’m smart enough for anything too complex,” he confessed. Peter sighed. “My aunt is ready for me to go back to school, and I hate disappointing her, but I just don’t want to waste my time.”

“I’ve been in your shoes before,” the other man admitted. “My old man didn’t care what I studied, as long as I got a doctorate in it and made myself into a success.” Tony grinned, lifting his coffee to his mouth. “He wasn’t too thrilled when I dropped out.”

Peter’s eyes widened slightly with curiosity. “Why did you leave school?” he asked, a cheek full of his burger.

Tony scoffed but didn’t lose his smile. “I met someone, fell in love, got stupid. I spent all my time with them instead of studying or doing what I was supposed to do. Finally, I realized I was on the road to failure, so I dropped out before it would count against me.”

Peter’s insides twisted. “What happened after that?”

“Oh, they dumped me,” Tony answered, his smile faltering slightly. “Couldn’t be seen dating a college dropout, I guess. I really had to grow up after that. Getting your heart broken will really straighten a person out. Focusing on school became a lot easier, especially with my dad threatening to cut me off if I didn’t finish.”

It was impossible not to stare at Tony, listening to his sad story. Peter swallowed, meeting his eyes with sympathy. “I’m sorry…” He felt guilty and didn’t know why. Part of him wanted to comfort his new acquaintance but didn’t know how.

Tony shrugged, drinking his coffee. “It was a long time ago. Life goes on.” With a grin, he urged, “Enough about me. I was trying to be encouraging and I think I ruined your appetite instead.” His eyes went to Peter’s burger, not even halfway eaten. “Either way, don’t let anything stop you from going after what’s right, and don’t be discouraged. You’ll figure it out.”

Peter smiled bashfully. “Thanks.” The man beside him had turned out to be so friendly and witty, but also troubled, wise, and vaguely mysterious. Tony was insightful and funny, and damn was he handsome, especially when he smiled. Peter’s heart was still thumping hard in his chest, pushing him to say something, anything, to keep this conversation from ending. An idea formed, and, without further consideration, Peter found himself blurting out, “Do you have a pen?”

“A pen?” Tony felt his pockets, then produced a blue ink pen from his inner coat pocket. “Yeah, here ya go.”

The teen nodded a thanks, taking the pen. What the hell was he doing? He asked himself this as he began to scribble on a paper napkin, trying not to tear it. When he was finished, Peter slid the napkin and pen back over to Tony, standing from his barstool. “Take it easy, Mr. Stark.” The other man picked up the paper, and Peter walked away without another word. He approached the register, being careful not to look in Tony’s direction as he paid for his meal. Peter didn’t want to know how the older man had reacted to his note and wouldn’t dare chance making awkward eye contact.

Tony watched Peter leave, then looked back at the napkin, reading it again, making sure his vision was correct. In moderately messy handwriting were the words _Text me sometime? Peter Parker_ and a phone number. It left Tony glowing, hiding his smile behind his hand. This was unexpected but…nice.


End file.
